


Say Something

by Grapeofwrath



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Louise Brealey - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlolly - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grapeofwrath/pseuds/Grapeofwrath





	Say Something

It’s hard letting go ,and I don’t mean letting go of yourself, or maybe someone like you but really letting go of the things you can’t change. Like fads,or maybe,maybe time. You can’t take hold of those little hands that go around the clock and turn it to a number.Once your number is up,it’s up,and you can’t go back.

 

You can’t.

 

"We met through friends" I told Sherlock but what I meant to say is: 'I can't go back.I can't hold your massive..beautiful hands and turn it all around.'

 

I can’t.

 

Marriage. It’s funny, isn’t it? What’s so funny about marriage,Molly? Well,I will tell you that it’s funny because it certainly doesn’t happen to someone like me.Dead bodies don’t speak ,and when they rarely do,they show up ,and ask you to save their lives.Funny thing,marriage.You can’t go back.

 

"Molly,is everything all right?" Tom calls. "It’s just that..You’ve been in the loo for twenty minutes and I really need a wee."

 

"I’ll be right out,Tom. Give me a few moments to…"

 

To what?To what,Molly Hooper? Shame on you for even thinking about him right now.Shame on you for thinking about him ever.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

 

"You haven’t stopped twirling your engagement ring around your finger" Tom said on the way to the church. "Is it alright? Does it itch?"

 

"No,it’s fine."

 

Is it fine?Is it really fine?

 

I want to knock my conscience about the way John punched Sherlock when he came back (I should know.I only patched him up). I want to knock it to the ground and tell it to stop thinking about him,stop romanticizing everything he does like the way he fluffs his hair ,or the way he looks at me like I’m not just Molly Hooper but..but..a woman.

 

I am being silly. I will be getting married one day to Tom. He’s lovely ,that Tom.He’s funny and he treats me better than anyone has in a long time.His family all love me,or at least that’s what Tom says.I think his mum thinks I’m a bit daft but doesn’t everybody think of me that way?

 

"I hope you’ll be very happy Molly Hooper.You deserve it." I hear Sherlock’s words echo inside of my head. I replay them sometimes when I miss hearing his voice. I’m not proud, but I am not unhappy about it.It’s comforting,that’s all. I try not to think too much about it.

 

He doesn’t think of you that way.

 

No,I tell my nasty conscience. He doesn’t think of me that way because he doesn’t think of me at all.

 

"Molly?" Tom calls but I’m in another world where I am fighting myself with myself.If I’m not daft,I am certainly a nutter.

 

I feel a tug on my arm from Tom and snap out of it.We are in front of the church where John and Mary will be married shortly. It’s quite strange thinking that I am next,knowing that I will be putting on a gown ,and walking down an aisle toward..toward Tom and all of these feelings.

 

You can’t.

 

I can’t.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

 

"Have you seen Sherlock?"

 

"Wha- Why..why would I have seen Sherlock?"

 

Lestrade is looking at me funny.Good job trying to play it cool ,Molly.Fucking hell.Get it together,tuck your bag under your arm,and smile at Greg.Yes,that’s it.Not too wide or you’ll look like a raging psychopath.

 

"I have not seen him" I say. I make eye contact with Greg which is a massive mistake since I’ll just end up looking down nervously at my shoes. He knows.Who am I kidding? Everyone knows.

 

"Are you alright?" Greg asks,his face scrunching up.

 

"I’m fine" I say.

 

"It’s her ring" Tom speaks up. "Her rings bothering her."

 

"It’s not-" I start to say but think better of it.There really is no point,is there? "Yes,it’s my ring."

 

"What’s the problem with it?" Greg asks.I know he doesn’t care and that he would rather I chuck it in a bin and snog him in a closet.He’s just being polite.

 

"It’s a little itchy" I say,giving in.

 

Also,it’s from the wrong man.

 

No.

 

NO,MOLLY.

 

"Anyway,enough about Sherlock" I laugh.

 

"What? No one said anything about Sherlock" Greg says,puzzled.

 

Oh,bugger.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

 

Say something.

 

Please for once in your pathetic life,Molly Hooper,go up to him and say something. Don’t look into those gorgeous eyes.Don’t smooth out the wrinkles in his jacket or adjust his cuff links.Don’t tell him he looks handsome even though he looks the way he does in all of your fantasies.No,don’t think about the fantasies. Whatever you do ,never think about those.

 

Is it hot in here or is it just me? It is May,after all. Of course it’s hot outside.It’s spring ,you moron.How are you ever going to function if you can’t think straight around him?It never used to be this way..not since..

 

Two years.A lot can change with time and I know I said that you can never go back ,but what if you could? I’ll never go back to being that girl with the small mouth and laughable present but what if I could go back to being the one that mattered most?

 

"Are you going to move forward,dear?"

 

"I’m sorry?"

 

I turn around and see John’s Aunt or something trying to push me up the buffet line. I balance my and Tom’s plates in my hand like a circus performer and move along.I don’t honestly know what John and Mary were thinking about having a buffet line for their wedding reception. The line is long and everyone keeps shoving into me.No wonder I prefer the company of dead people.

 

"I’m sorry" I say out loud to no one."I’m just really..sorry"

 

I take a deep breath and look around for Sherlock but he is nowhere to be seen.I crane my neck to get a glimpse of his curly mop in the crowd but he’s not there.

 

Let him go,my conscience hisses.

 

I should,really.I’m barely someone’s misses and I’m already thinking of another man.It’s wrong,I know it is,but first loves burn strong. Oh,that rhymes.

 

Jeez,Molly,get a grip will you.

 

I close my eyes and think of nice,happy thoughts. Tom getting down on one knee and asking me to marry him.My mother’s face when she heard that I wasn’t going to end up an old spinster with thirty cats and knitting needles everywhere.My cat,Toby,and his soft fur that I love rubbing my face against.There,that feels better.Those three things are beautiful things to think about.These three things are my sign that everything is going to be okay.

 

"Molly" Sherlock's voice fills the air around me.It sounds quite high-pitched and nervous,or maybe I am imagining things.

 

In utter shock,I turn to face him,and completely forgetting that I’ve got plates in my hands,they come crashing down to the floor. Everyone turns to look at my mortified face ,and at Sherlock kindly kneeling to pick up the pieces.

 

You bastard.Why do you always have to pick up the pieces?

 

"Shit" I say,kneeling down beside him.

 

I frantically pick up the broken plates.My hands are shaking,my hair is falling out of my bun,and I can’t bring myself to look up at him. I can feel him staring at me,but all I can do is keep my eyes trained on his fingers.

 

"Molly" Sherlock says. My name always sounds so lovely coming out of his mouth that I always wonder what it would sound like going into mine.

 

Fantastic,now I am blushing at the thought.

 

"Molly"he says again. "Are you alright?"

 

"No" I say louder than I mean to. I look up at him then, and let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding in.

 

"It’s going to be okay.It’s just plates.There are always more plates." Sherlock says.

 

"There are never more plates" I say. "There’s only one plate. There is only one plate and it’s broken and there will never be more. You can’t fix…plates"

 

I get to my feet and start walking away.Sherlock’s eyes can’t read me if I’m not here.Funnily enough,I don’t think he needs to look at me to understand that it’s not just the plates that are broken.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

 

I don’t smoke but I feel like this is one of those times that I wish I did just so my hands can stay busy. Instead, I resort to sitting in a shed, fidgeting with my dress ,which,in all honesty,I only wore because it matches perfectly with Sherlock’s eyes.

 

Oh,what am I doing to myself?

 

I haven’t moved on.I am still stuck here playing this same game where I am chasing after the boy but the boy is chasing after someone else. Sherlock doesn’t go back.Sherlock moves forward and all you’re left with is a swish of a coat and some belief that maybe someday he will veer a little to the right and kiss your mouth for a change. (I mean kiss my cheek once,shame on you ,but kiss my cheek twice,shame on me)

 

"Molly?"

 

"Oh for fucks sake,I can’t get away from you" I shout. I wave my arms around for dramatic affect but I only look like I am trying to fly away. "I can’t breathe when you are around ,Sherlock Holmes.I just want to breathe."

 

He takes a step back.So typical.It’s all a joke to him.

 

"I hate you" I say.

 

Sherlock’s eyes widen but only just a little.If I could deduce him I would say he looks like he’s been waiting for this explosion for a long time. Maybe so have I.

 

"Say Something" I plead. "Say something or..or I will never speak with you again."

 

"You have to speak with me.You work in the morgue."

 

"I will quit.”

 

"No, you won’t." he says.

 

"Unbelievable!" I say. "You can’t for one second stop knowing everything? I don’t want you inside of my head.I don’t want you on my body…"

 

"What do you want,Molly?"

 

"I want you to fuck off out of my life,my very happy life."

 

I can tell what he is thinking as he cocks his head to the side.Happy life? A happy life only applies to those that are happy and you,Molly Hooper,you are miserable.Look at the state of you with your dark circles and your chipped nails. Look at the tears spilling down your cheek and the way your lip quivers.Look.At.You.

 

"Things were easier when you were gone" I say numbly. " I could just imagine that you weren’t collecting dust in 221B.I could imagine you never walking through my work again.I could imagine a life without you in it but now..now ,Sherlock, all I imagine is you. All I see is you.All I think about is you.All I feel at night is your hand covering mine.All I want to hear is your voice telling me that maybe it’s not just my imagination,that maybe you’d want me too."

 

I wait for what feels like an eternity, but he doesn’t say anything.That’s Sherlock for you,isn’t it? He tells too much of the truth and then not enough of it. I turn to go,to give up finally,but something inside of me tells me to turn back around and look at him.

 

He’s standing still but it’s him this time that can’t look at me. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out because at that same moment he brings his eyes to mine.It’s different than all of the other times he has looked at me.There is absolutely nothing he needs now,not my mad ramblings,or my help.It’s just me,just Molly.

 

"It’s not your imagination" he mumbles.

 

"What?" I ask.I can’t keep the smile out of my voice.

 

"I said.." Sherlock began. "It’s not your imagination,Molly."

 

"I know what you said." I said. "I just needed to hear you say it."

 

Sherlock straightened his tux and rolled his shoulders.I watched mesmerized as the embarrassment spreads across his face. You pick up a few tricks knowing a man like Sherlock and I can see all of them. The way he rubs his forefinger and thumb together in nervous excitement,the subtle movement of his tongue brushing against the dry roof of his mouth. He’ll clear his throat to break up the moment but it won’t work. Not anymore,Sherlock.Not anymore.

 

"Kiss me" I say.

 

"I can’t."

 

"You can "

 

"Molly…"

 

"Don’t ‘Molly’ me ,you prat. I want you too."

 

"I know but-"

 

"But what?"

 

"Molly if I kiss you right now kissing won’t be the only thing I end up doing to that mouth." he says.

 

"Oh."

 

———————————————————————————————————————————-

 

Second time in the bathroom today where I’m not quite sure what I am doing in here. I can think of a million things to do that don’t involve going to the toilets or stepping foot outside of this door where Sherlock is waiting.

 

Sherlock is waiting

 

Sherlock

 

I have every reason to bash my head against these tiles that Mrs.hudson seems to spot clean every week.I wonder if she can get bloodstains out of bath towels. I slump against the sink and look at myself in the mirror.I think of all of the ways to jump out of this window and not die.Oh,the irony.

 

There’s a soft rapt on the door.It’s Sherlock,of course.It would be awakward if John or someone came back while we were getting ready to..well,you know. Or Tom. I don’t know why I always keep forgetting about him.

 

"Are you alright?"

 

"I am now" I whisper at my reflection in the mirror.

 

I’ve wanted him since the first time I met him. He insulted me,called me names I didn’t know the meaning to,and ignored me whenever he didn’t need me. He might as well have made me cease to exist but it wasn’t like that with Sherlock. I did exist to him. I existed in cases. I existed in lab coats and Christmas parcels.I came alive with a kiss on the cheek and a feeling. I tried to forget him and all of the things I felt, but I realised it made me feel as dead as the people on my slab.Sherlock Holmes saved me like he saved everyone.

 

I swing open the bathroom door and stand before him. I might have failed to mention that I’m stark naked and absolutely freaking out. Bless him for looking into my eyes first though.

 

"I want you to look at me" I tell him. "Please,Sherlock,look at me."

 

His eyes slowly blink down my face,at my mother’s nose,and my father’s chin. They move from end to end of my collarbone and advance down to my chest. He pauses here and gazes at me as it’s the first time he’s seen someone naked, though we both know that it’s not.

 

"When I was nine I fell out of a tree in my Nan’s front yard in Suffolk. There’s a scar just below my waist where a branch cut me.I had six stitches.It hurt but not as bad as being told I could never climb the tree again. I loved that tree"

 

Sherlock’s eyes curved around the little fleshy scar on my abdomen. He lingered on it for a moment before looking into my eyes again. I felt my skin chill at his focus.

 

"Why are you telling me this?"

 

"I don’t want you to see me,Sherlock" I say. "I don’t want you to see a mouth too small or breasts too..I don’t know..but I want you to know me inside and out.I want you to know my scars,my beauty marks.I want you to know every inch of me."

 

He takes a step forward.I have to tilt my head back to look him in the eye.I suddenly feel quite ill at the thought of his pink lips on my skin.I’ve wondered for so long what they would feel like that nothing seems solid.It’s as if I can reach my hand out and it would go right through him.

 

"I’m real,Molly Hooper" Sherlock says. "I’ve known every inch of you just as you know me.You know me.”

 

Not even dreams are better than this reality as Sherlock leans down to kiss me,his hand cupping my face,his eyelashes fluttering against my skin.I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck because I am afraid of floating away.I am afraid of letting go.

 

Sherlock feels as good as he looks.I’ve only thought of it a hundred times as I watched him walk out of St.Bart’s.I reached out and let my fingers tug on his hair,let them drag down his back.His suit was so soft that I thought -how could anything possibly be that soft?- until I felt his skin.Dragging my tongue across his throat felt like a hot knife sliding through butter. All I wanted to do was taste every sweet part of him.

 

He stripped down just as awkward as I had , but it felt okay.It was okay. We were more naked clothed than we could ever be in the nude.

 

So,this is where you hide,I thought as he brought me into this bedroom.It’s completely what I expected ,but with Sherlock Holmes,I knew I should never expect anything.If he wants it hidden,it will stay that way.

 

He’s waiting for me to say something or do something but I sit down on the edge of his bed and wait for him to approach me first.

 

I know you but for the first time I see you.

 

Sherlock is shaking from nerves, or possibly anticipation.His pulse must be racing,and when I look into his dilated eyes ,I know that he is scared. He look’s so young standing there, and for once in my life I stop being little Molly Hooper, and take charge.

 

"Come here" I say,holding out my hand.

 

He takes it and I pull him down next to me. I lean over and stroke his cheek before brushing my thumb across his bottom lip. He shuts his eyes and let’s out an exhale of breath against my thumb. By his neck,I gently pull him towards me and press my lips against his. His hands thrust out to hold my cheek as I climb atop him,his back pressing against his duvet. I straddle him,delighting at the feel of his fingers stroking my bare back.

 

"Molly" he says into my mouth. It is far better than I could ever have imagined.

 

I am unprepared when Sherlock flips me onto my back and moves over me.He intertwines his fingers with mine,pushing both of our hands into the mattress. Sherlock nuzzles his nose against my shoulder ,and before I can brace myself,his cock is inside of me and it’s filling me up to the soft sounds of his moaning.

 

He moves inside of me freely,his face blank,his mind probably thinking of ways to please me.He wants to be technical about it but his body is enjoying the way he slides in and out of me too much.I sqeeze his fingers in mine and look up at him lovingly. He locks eyes with me,his lips parting in a silent gasp. We are together at last.


End file.
